


More Heat than Light

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: Kinktober 2018 [8]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst, M/M, People are Dicks, Self-Loathing, but they actually talk at the end so its all good, kind of?, some slight references to possible child abuse but it's very brief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 04:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16234046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Tequila doubts his place at Kingsman. Eggsy reminds him.





	More Heat than Light

**Author's Note:**

> Day eight was angry sex, and I think I kind of got that? There's definitely anger and sex, so we'll call it good. Someone save my precious son from himself.

Tequila pressed his forehead against the cold door of the locker, gritting his teeth. He slammed his hand against the metal, the sound echoing around Kingsman’s locker room. He wasn’t going to cry. He fucking wasn’t.

He fucking hated England.

That wasn’t strictly the truth, of course. England was…fine. He didn’t really see the hype that so many tourists brought to the place, but he’d lived in worse places. And England did have one benefit that America definitely didn’t. England had Eggsy. And Tequila would have _swam_ across the ocean just to follow Eggsy. Taking Kingsman’s private jet had been easy.

But that didn’t stop him from hating it sometimes. Because apparently it wasn’t enough that he’d been Statesman’s resident piece of trailer trash. Kingsman was a whole different level.

He slammed his fist against the locker again. The thundering clang didn’t satisfy him in the slightest, but it did make his eardrums ache, and he could tell himself that the tears he was blinking back were just his eyes watering as a result. Part of him wanted to hit something. He clenched his fist again, and then released it.

The anger scared him. He knew it scared Eggsy too, and for pretty much the same reason. Tequila remembered all too well what a belt felt like when it struck bare skin. He knew that a slap always felt worse, whether it hurt more or not. And he knew that he would rather die than lay a hand on someone who didn’t deserve it.

Which was why he had to calm down right the fuck now, because there was no way he was going home to Eggsy like this. He wasn’t going to risk the love of his life seeing him this angry. If he could just swallow those fucking tears and man the fuck up, it would be fine.

“Tequila?” The question was hesitant, and Tequila’s breath caught in his throat. He swallowed hard and straightened up, pushing away from the locker and hunching in on himself, hands shoved in the pockets of his gym shorts. Roxy tilted her head, her ponytail swaying as she regarded him. There was a wary look in her eyes, and Tequila forced himself to loosen his jaw and give her a hesitant false smile.

“I didn’t know anyone else was in here,” he said softly. “I’ll just…” He made a gesture towards the door, but he didn’t move. He didn’t know where he would go if not home.

“Are you okay?” Roxy asked.

“I’m fine.” The words were terse, and Tequila forced himself to loosen again, even though every part of him was tight.

“Do you want me to call Eggsy?”

“No!” It came out too fast, too desperate, and Tequila realized he’d taken a step towards Roxy, who’d instinctually backed away. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m just…” He hung his head. “It’s stupid.”

Roxy hesitated, and then put a hand on his arm. “Talk to Eggsy,” she advised. “He’s a good listener. And I think a boyfriend is probably better than a friend right now.”

“I don’t want to yell at him,” Tequila admitted. “And if I try to talk about this, I think I’m going to.”

“Eggsy’s a big boy,” Roxy said. “And so are you. I think you can handle it.” She patted his arm and then released him, moving towards the shower area. Tequila stared after her for a moment, and then sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He pulled out his glasses and considered them, then took out his cell phone instead. He hit the speed dial and waited. Eggsy picked up after two rings. “Babe? What’s up?”

“I, uh…I’m leaving the complex. I just hit the gym, so I’m gonna shower, and then I’ll be home.”

“Okay.” Eggsy paused. “You alright? You sound a little…”

“We’ll talk when I get home.” Tequila hung up and hated himself a little more for it. He shucked off his gym clothes and grabbed a towel, padding over to the showers. He turned the water on scalding, until it burned at his skin. It matched the simmering heat inside, and he desperately tried to push it farther down, to drown it out in the water.

Roxy was gone by the time he stepped out, but no one else had come in. Tequila dressed quickly, hardly bothering to dry himself, so his clothes stuck to his damp skin.

It took him another half an hour to get home. Eggsy poked his head out of the kitchen when he heard the door open, watching Tequila silently kick his boots off. Tequila met his gaze and looked away. His jaw tightened again. He shouldn’t be here.

“I wasn’t gonna come home yet,” he said softly. “But Roxy thought I ought to.”

“She’s a smart woman,” Eggsy said. “What’s wrong?”

“Why do you think something’s wrong?”

“How ‘bout because you’re snapping at me for asking?” Eggsy folded his arms defensively. “I know you. I know what you look like when you come home angry.”

“I’m not!”

“Then why the fuck is you shouting?”

He hadn’t meant to, as he suspected Eggsy hadn’t meant for his accent to come out thicker, the way it always did when he got more emotional and forgot all those posh manners Harry had taught him. Tequila swallowed hard and turned away, stalking by Eggsy and into the living room. Eggsy followed him and waited.

Tequila turned to face him again. “I’m sorry. I’m a little riled tonight, is all. It ain’t your fault.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“If I say no?”

“Then I’ve got dinner mostly done and a kids’ movie we can screen for Daisy.” Code for: we’ll shut up and eat and pretend we need an excuse to watch something cutesy.

“Then no. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Eggsy agreed easily. “You want to help me with dinner, or are you gonna sit in here and chill for a while?” Code for: do you want to talk about something else or do you need some space?

“I think I’m gonna sit here,” Tequila said. “I’ll clean up dinner, though. It’s only fair.”

“Alright. Won’t be long.” Eggsy left, and Tequila sank down onto the couch and rested his head in his hands.

Dinner was tense, and halfway through they wordlessly moved to the living room, flicking on the television to the aforementioned kids’ movie just to have some noise besides the scraping of forks and knives. Tequila didn’t pay much attention to the movie or dinner, shovelling it into his mouth on autopilot. It was probably delicious – most things Eggsy made were – but his mouth just tasted like ashes.

He waited until they were both done to stand up, reaching out for Eggsy’s plate. Eggsy managed to school a flinch, and Tequila withdrew, recognizing the motion. “I’m just going to clean up,” Tequila murmured, and the words soothed some of the tension in the room, Eggsy offering out his dish for Tequila to take.

The movie wasn’t over, but Eggsy turned it off anyway, following Tequila into the kitchen. As Tequila turned on the water to start rinsing off the dishes, Eggsy said, “What can I do?”

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m not asking you to talk about it,” Eggsy snapped. “I’m asking if I can help! Because this fucking silent treatment is fucking killing me!”

“I told you it wasn’t about you!”

“It fucking feels like it is!”

“This is what I wanted to avoid!” Tequila slammed the dish down, water sloshing over the edge of the sink and muffling the noise. He took a deep breath, gripping the countertop so hard his knuckles turned deathly white. “This was a mistake.”

Eggsy was silent for a moment, stunned, and his voice was a lot smaller when he asked, “What was a mistake?”

Tequila didn’t look at him. “Me coming here.”

“Where? Home?”

“This isn’t fucking home! This is just…” Tequila glanced around the kitchen and slumped. “I meant England. I should have stayed in Kentucky.”

“What happened?”

It was Tequila’s turn to be surprised. Eggsy’s tone was…clinical. More than that, there was an edge to it that didn’t seem to be directed at Tequila. He turned around. “What do you mean, what happened?”

Eggsy crossed his arms again. “Did someone say something to you? Because I fucking know you don’t think like that. Everything’s been going fine. You like it here. So all I can think is that somebody said some shit to you that’s making you doubt it.”

Tequila opened his mouth and then closed it again. Eggsy raised his eyebrows. “Well?”

“I don’t belong at Kingsman. Hell, I hardly belong at Statesman. I was kidding myself thinking otherwise.”

“Who was it? Kay? Tristan? I’ll fucking murder them.”

“No one said shit to me,” Tequila snapped. “They just…look, I was at the gym, alright? And yeah, Kay and Tristan were there, but they didn’t have to say anything. I could see the way they looked at me. They always fucking look at me like that, like-“

“Like you’re something we picked up off the street and ought to return there at the nearest possible convenience?”

Tequila blinked at the conviction Eggsy delivered. Eggsy nodded in confirmation. He took a step closer. “You don’t think they said shit like that about me? You don’t think I came here, and all anyone would talk about was how I must have sucked Harry and Merlin off to get a spot at the table? How I was druggie street trash from the estates? You think people didn’t suggest I go back where I came from because clearly I didn’t belong here with them?” His words were fierce, advancing on Tequila as he said them, and Tequila swallowed hard because he recognized that fire burning in Eggsy’s eyes.

“They were never right about you,” he retorts. “You fucking earned your place. Statesman only let me in ‘cause Champ felt sorry for me and picked me up out of the gutter.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“It’s the truth!”

They were shouting again, almost nose to nose, Eggsy’s chin tilted up defiantly to stare Tequila in the eyes. “You shut up and listen to me,” Eggsy ground out. “Anyone who ever told you that shit? Anyone who ever made you feel like you weren’t fucking amazing? They’re all fucking arseholes. They’re arseholes and they’re _wrong_ , because you are the best fucking thing that ever happened to me, the best fucking thing that could have happened to Kingsman after all that shit with Poppy. You’re a fucking awesome agent and a great boyfriend when you actually _talk_ to me about what’s going on in your head and you belong right here, with me, do you understand?”

Tequila kissed him.

He hadn’t meant to, but they’d been so close and his blood was pumping, adrenaline running high, and he’d wanted to shut Eggsy up, hadn’t wanted to keep hearing him say those things because they didn’t feel true and it hurt to hear Eggsy insist them, over and over. Eggsy didn’t back down, though. He kissed back with the same fervour, shoving Tequila and moving with him until Tequila was bent backwards over the kitchen table, Eggsy between his legs, holding him still with a commanding hand on his shoulder. He pulled away, pinning Tequila down again when he tried to arch up. “I love you. Do you get that?”

“I ain’t worth it.”

“Yes, you fucking are,” Eggsy said. Tequila tried to sit up and Eggsy shoved him back down again. “You’re not listening to me.” His other hand landed over Tequila’s heart. “This? It’s fucking mine. If you think I won’t fight for it, you need to fucking think again.” His hand moved lower, dragging his nails down Tequila’s abs. “All of this is mine. You don’t appreciate it, so it’s mine until you can get your head out of your arse, understand?” Lower still, and those rough fingers found the erection that was starting to tent Tequila’s jeans, squeezing it tight. “You deserve to feel good. And since you’re so determined to make yourself feel shitty, I guess it’s my job to fix it.”

The hand pinning him disappeared, but Tequila couldn’t have gotten up if he tried because suddenly Eggsy’s mouth was on him. He felt teeth scraping through the denim, felt the wet heat of Eggsy’s breath pool over him, dampening his jeans as his cock filled. Eggsy unsnapped the button and then took the zipper in his mouth, and Tequila managed to prop his head up just enough to see Eggsy’s eyes burning into him as he lowered the zipper with his teeth, then did the same for Tequila’s waistband until Tequila’s cock was freed.

Eggsy didn’t waste time swallowing him down, and Tequila yelped as his entire length found a home in Eggsy’s mouth, the head slipping down his throat as Eggsy relaxed his gag reflex. “Eggsy,” he panted. “Wait.”

Eggsy pulled off with a pop, planting one hand on his hip. “No,” he said. “I’m going to make you feel good, and you’re going to lay there and let me. Understood?”

Part of Tequila wanted to fight him on it, and that particular part reminded him that they had safewords for a reason. But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to. He wanted to put himself into Eggsy’s hands. Or mouth, as it were.

At his silence, Eggsy nodded and then went back down, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked and twisting his tongue around the crown as he bobbed up. Tequila groaned and held on for dear life as his cock was buried again and again in that wet heat, Eggsy’s throat convulsing around him, his fingers finding Tequila’s balls and rolling them.

He came when Eggsy hummed around him, and Eggsy swallowed it all and pulled off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and standing up straight again. Tequila panted and dropped his head back again, spots dancing briefly across his vision as it collided with the table. Slowly, he caught his breath, and then sat up, tucking his spent cock back into his jeans and nodded towards Eggsy’s crotch. “My turn?”

“No.”

Tequila frowned, glancing up at Eggsy’s face. Eggsy’s jaw was set, but his expression was calm now. He shook his head. “That was for you. I’m good.”

“But-“

“I said no.” His voice softened. “Not tonight, babe.” He helped Tequila off the table, taking his hands and tilting his head up to look at him. “Take a shower and then come to bed. We’re gonna have a talk. No shouting this time. Okay?”

“Alright.”

For the second time that evening, Tequila took a shower, and this time the water didn’t burn. When he finished, he wrapped a towel around his waist and wandered towards the bedroom.

Eggsy was sitting on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, already dressed in his sleep clothes. Tequila dropped his towel and pulled his sleep pants on, then sat on the edge of the bed. Eggsy beckoned him closer, and Tequila scooted towards him, until their knees were touching.

“Hi,” Eggsy murmured.

“Hey.”

“Can I get a proper kiss?” Eggsy asked. “Didn’t get one when you got home.”

Tequila leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Eggsy’s lips. Eggsy curled his fingers around the back of Tequila’s neck and held him there a beat, then let go. As they parted, Eggsy said, “Are you feeling better now?”

Tequila nodded.

“Good.” Eggsy traced patterns into the bunches of fabric at Tequila’s knee. “You know I love you.”

Tequila sighed. “I know. And I’m sorry for saying that shit. It’s not…I didn’t really mean it. I know how hard I fought to get here, and I love coming home to you. And I know where I belong.”

Eggsy smiled. “I know you know,” he said. “That’s why I hate it when you get wrapped up inside your head like that. ‘Cause we both know it’s not true.”

“It just gets to me sometimes.”

“I know. But you ain’t alone, babe. In any of it.” Eggsy nudged him gently. “I know neither of us is good at the whole ‘healthy outlet for anger’ thing. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to repress shit for my sake.”

“I hate the idea of hurting you,” Tequila whispered.

Eggsy took Tequila’s hand in both of his. “But letting shit fester hurts _you_. And I don’t want you hurting yourself for my sake. Kingsman has therapists, babe. If you don’t want to talk to me about something, you could talk to them. Just don’t let it fester.”

“I’m not sure I can talk to a shrink.”

Eggsy shrugged. “So don’t. But it helped me.”

Tequila blinked. “You?”

“Yeah.” Eggsy nodded. “I took it kind of hard when Harry died. Or…well, when we thought he died. And my life kind of turned on its head for a lot of reasons right around then, and it felt like everything was collapsing in on me, you know? And Roxy suggested I go talk to one of the therapists. I figured I didn’t have anything to lose, so I did, and it helped. It really, honestly helped.” He brought Tequila hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “I can’t promise it’ll help you. But it might be worth a shot. Think about it.”

“Okay,” Tequila agreed. He could think about it. He could do that much. He hesitated. “I know you offered to do the same, but do you want _me_ to kick Kay and Tristan’s ass for saying shit about you?”

Eggsy laughed and scooted away, shoving back the covers and gesturing for Tequila to join him under them. “Nah, babe, I’m good. But I appreciate the offer.”

Tequila snugged into Eggsy’s arms, settling easily once his boyfriend was wrapped around him. “I love you.”

Eggsy pressed a kiss to his forehead and murmured. “I love you too, babe. Now go to sleep.” And Tequila did.


End file.
